Page 75 of Surfaces
I had to fight not to let my inner demons soar out and do all the things I longed to do.
Instead, I smiled with full teeth and continued questioning Sahar in an effort to find some way out of this disaster besides violence. “Well, do we have to eliminate everyone this round?”
“It’s always been done.”
“But is it in the official rules?” I stressed the word official in the hopes that it was clear to Sahar I was looking for loopholes before the herald made the final announcement of combined scores and gave the public the names of the men who’d proceed forward in the tournament.
Sahar looked at me with pity. “It is in the rules. There have to be eliminations.”
“But how many?” I pressed, glancing at her list again. Felipe was only one behind Radford. If we could keep just one more man on the list, then I could use my exception and save Valdez.
Sahar shook her head like it was hopeless, tying a knot in my gut that was so tight that it ached. “We can’t change scores…”
No.
Sard Gorgono.
Sard the rules.
Sahar stared at me, eyes growing wide as an idea came to her. “We can’t change scores without changing judges. There was a determination nearly five-hundred years ago that a judge was trying to exert undue influence to get a distant cousin through the tournament. He was replaced.”
Yes! But who the hell can I get that won’t be influenced by Gorgono. He’s got the entire city under his thumb…
That thought set me in a new direction. I knew exactly what I had to do.
Determination sparked me to move, and I snatched the list off of Sahar’s lap desk, then strode over to the herald. My fate and future would not be determined by rules made by people long dead. And I’d be damned if it was determined by a bastard like Gorgono. “I’d like to give the final scores out please.”
The startled man announced me to the crowd before he handed over his conch shell, reminding me of my first announcement at the start of this tournament. I took a deep breath to steel myself, since the stakes felt higher this time. That day, these men had still been figments of my imagination, not flesh and bone. Now, I knew them. And I wanted to know even more.
“Good afternoon, Navagio! I’m here to read out the rankings of the men after both tournaments.” I read slowly, thinking as I did so.
The perfect example came to me when I read off Taft’s name.
“You know…I was kidnapped as a baby and raised on land,” I diverted into a story. “And the queen of Evaness, whom I thought was my mother, had a few sayings I found annoying.
“One of those was that a bird can’t change its feathers. The equivalent down here would probably be that a fish can’t change its stripes.
“I find it interesting…that in a city renowned for creative thinking, the tournament results here actually punish those who think creatively.”
I waited and let that sink in for the crowd before I turned to Gorgono so that the mayor could see the deadly expression on my face and just how utterly done I was with him sarding me over. This little power battle he had begun was going to end here and now. “Of course, I’ve found many people under duress attempt to change their stripes.”
Gorgono paled and I watched his throat bob as he swallowed hard, realizing that this time, I could publicly call him out for his interference.
I gave him a dark grin, my magic humming an ancient battle tune underneath my skin, before I turned back to face the city and slowly lifted the shell to my lips, intentionally drawing out his agony. “Can the judges come forward please?”
I waited, without looking at them, a technique I’d seen Queen Gela use to great effect in her office. She often had people who’d undermined her join her at the window to look out at the gardens. It made them three times as anxious because they couldn’t watch her facial expressions to see where she was going with her questions. It made it harder for them to anticipate her moves.
I could practically feel the water vibrating with their anxiety as they surrounded me.
Ugo and Paavo moved closer behind me, guarding my back as I lifted the shell, and then began a very public interrogation.
“So…one of you is a healer, correct?”
I glanced to the side to see the healer with the single stripe of lavender hair nod in acknowledgment.
“Please state your name for the people of Navagio.” I held the shell out to her.
“Orlena,” the healer spoke softly.
